


Friday Night, Saturday Morning

by tetsuken



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Rating May Change, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:24:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3393395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsuken/pseuds/tetsuken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma is starting university without his best friend. Everything could go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I got a piercing," Kenma said with the emotion of a pan.

Hinata stopped tapping his PSP and stared at him wide-eyed. "You _what_?"

He knew this was how he'd react.

Hinata burst into a nervous laughter. "What's with this dry sense of humour, as if you'd—"

Kenma pushed away the blonde hair covering his right ear and revealed a tiny crystal stud. Hinata's jaw dropped and he tossed his PSP to the side before coming up to tug on his earlobe.

"Ow!"

"No fucking way. Are you that upset about me leaving?"

The blonde twitched. That his only close friend in his entire existence was going to attend university in a different prefecture was (admittedly) a part of the reason he decided to go through with having a needle jabbed through his earlobe. Kenma hated pain more than anything, and Hinata knew that better than most people. But being left alone to face his first year of tertiary education wasn't the only reason for it.

"No, I just wanted one."

"Yeah says the person who thinks clipping fingernails hurt."

Kenma frowned. It _did_ hurt though.

But right now piercing ears and clipping fingernails were the least of his problems. Kenma had spent his entire summer worrying about how he was going to deal four years without his best and _only_ friend. The two had been planning to attend the same university ever since first year and so the very notion of them being separated hadn't even crossed Kenma's mind, but life had a way of spontaneously fucking plans up especially when you least expected it.

It happened so fast. Hinata had a total meltdown during his entrance exams, and then all of a sudden it was plan B, all the way in Osaka, which was a 14000 yen one way bullet train ticket away from Tokyo metropolitan. Kenma was desperate enough to consider changing his enrolment on the last minute, not even caring that he would be giving up his position in one of Japan's most prestigious institutions, but unfortunately bills didn't pay themselves and Mrs. Kozume was your archetypal struggling single mother that Kenma already felt like he was disappointing in more ways than one. And so for the next few months Hinata did his very best every single day to reassure a completely freaked-out Kenma that everything would be okay and he would survive on his own, but no amount of reassuring was going to purge the anxiety that was practically breeding like rabbits inside his stomach.

***

Fast forward to doomsday and Kenma was seeing Hinata off at the train station. The boy had been back and forth between Tokyo and Osaka getting his enrolment together; his parents had decided to put him in a student share apartment which Kenma had only seen pictures of and was really small. Just the idea of sharing a bathroom made his skin crawl, but things like sharing and being independent were never a problem for the extroverted and open-minded Hinata.

"I wonder how long it'd take me to get a Kansai accent."

Kenma shrugged, honestly too miserable to care.

"Ya gotta lighten up! Did I sound like them?"

Kenma shrugged again. "Sure."

"Kenma?"

He sighed, "What?"

Hinata hugged him. Kenma let out the smallest whine. He was not going to break down in the middle of a busy train station because that would tear apart his already fragile self-esteem and knowing Hinata he would miss his train trying to calm him down.

But goddammit his hug was warm and kind and everything within his comfort zone because Hinata _was_ his comfort zone and oh god he just wanted to cry and tell his friend not to leave him to fight his social anxiety battles alone.

"It's going to be okay, we'll still snapchat and text and skype."Hinata gave one last tight squeeze before letting go of the blonde who was now squinting very hard into the distance in a last ditch attempt to hold back his tears.

Kenma was rooted to his spot as Hinata strolled past the ticket gates, rolling along his suitcase. Maybe his train would break down. Maybe he would forget something really important and have to come back. Kenma thought desperately of all the situations that could possibly delay his friend's departure, but imagination was no more than imagination. Appalled with himself, he shook his head frantically to shake away the selfish thoughts. The least he could do was stop making everything about him and send the little carrot-head he loved so much off with a smile. Besides, it wasn't Kenma that was leaving his entire life behind. "You're right, I'll be fine."

"That's the spirit," Hinata smiled.

Kenma returned the smile. He thought sadly that Hinata always had such a beautiful smile and he would miss it. "See you soon, Shouyou. Be safe."

"Definitely!" and with a last wave and look of concern, Hinata ascended the escalators, ready to walk a path of new experiences that Kenma would not be able to share.

***

Kenma took his shoes off before creeping past the kitchen. Nanami Kozume poked her head out the corridor with a spatula in one hand.

"Is Shouyou on the train now?" she asked.

Kenma didn't stop to look at her. "Mm."

"I made apple pie."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, okay then. I'll leave it on the table, heat it up when you're ready to come down." He heard his mother go back to her chores and tried not to think about the fact that she knew he was going to lock himself in his room for the rest of the day and probably sulk.

He dumped his bag on the floor and threw himself onto his bed, wrapping his arms around his pillow and burying it against the side of his face. One eye stared at the small photo stuck to his wall, still glossy and new. It was of him and Hinata during their graduation ceremony. Kenma held his diploma against his chest and was smiling very subtly at the camera, a stark contrast to the stupidly grinning Hinata who had his arm around the blonde and was waving his diploma in the air.

High school all of sudden was a distant memory. The reality of growing up had never felt too close for comfort until this very moment when he realised there would be no more Shouyou Hinata to rely on.

He was alone without Hinata, so very alone.

As he dozed off he thought of how shitty life was going to be from now on.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I'm TK! So in Japan they use LINE and SeeSaw instead of Whatsapp and Snapchat, but for the sake of not confusing the shit out of myself I'm just going to stick with the western counterparts. Besides that, I'm actually terrified of posting anything on this website but well, life is short. Please enjoy Kenma's journey through University.


	2. Chapter 2

First day.

Nope. He wasn't going. There was no point in torturing himself like that. He was good to stay home with his playstation and—

"Kenma, shouldn't you leave for class now?"

"Y-Yes, mum."

Kenma slipped on his backpack and left for his first day.

***

It was almost dangerous how fast and hard his heart was beating right now. The buildings were intimidating. The people were intimidating. University was intimidating. And the campus was ridiculously big, to the point that anyone visiting was guaranteed to be lost within the first 10 minutes of wandering around. Luckily Kenma had snitched a flyer from the information desk and there was a small map on the back page that he could use.

His first class was modern history. It was a general education course he'd picked on a whim, believing it would be a walk in the park. Other than that being a computer science major meant that his timetable mainly consisted of math classes in the Science Building, and computing classes in the Engineering Building, which were both conveniently located lower campus. Modern history on the other hand was in the Arts Building, a fifteen minute walk to the other side of the campus; thankfully he had hour breaks so he wouldn't have to sprint in between classes and make a complete show out of his poor athleticism.

The Arts Building was well – very obviously an Arts Building. It was stone-brick and worn, probably the oldest building on campus. Kenma liked its vintage feel. When he was inside, it was surprisingly spacious and the stone walls continued down the hallway until Kenma reached a very obviously renovated lecture theatre with white plaster and translucent glass doors.

Waiting outside was a coterie of boys that were the epitome of Kenma's polar opposite – athletic, tall, and charisma that could be felt from the other side of the corridor. They were sitting lazily on the floor with their phones out and bags sprawled around them like a fortress. It only reinforced the fact that _yes_ this was without a doubt the Arts Building.

Kenma kept a safe if not too safe distance from them. He tried blending in with a large group of students outside a nearby classroom, and when he decided nobody was paying attention to him, he sent Hinata a quick Whatsapp message.

_Waiting outside my first lecture. 9:45am_

Class didn't start for Hinata until the next day so he was probably still asleep. In reality the message was just a way for him to appear like he had friends to actually message.

Kenma sighed and started up a game of Clash of Clans instead. He didn't so much as tap the screen when an obnoxious voice ploughed across the corridor, causing him to jump in surprise.

"Fuck! Misaki's so mad at me." Kenma looked to his left. The profanity had come from the group of boys, specifically the gaudiest-looking boy with silver bleached hair that was gelled into hard spikes.

"What did you do to her?" his dark-haired friend deadpanned without even so much as looking his way.

"She found out I boned her sister," he replied gravely.

Kenma widened his eyes. He wasn't one to care about how others lived their lives, but it surprised him how some people were so good at embodying their stereotype. He wasn't one to talk, though.

The dark-haired boy deadpanned again, still only offering half his attention. "How did she find out?"

"That asshole Yuuji told her."

"What did you do to him?"

"I boned him."

At that, the third boy who had been silent until now put his phone down and gawked. "You boned her sister and then her boyfriend. Jesus Christ. Your parents should have named you Cockuto instead of Bokuto. Give your dick a vacation already."

The one called Bokuto frowned, nudging his friend in the ribs. "Okay first of all her sister wanted the D. Second, the thing with Yuuji happened during grad trip and if you weren't one of those weirdos that forgets everything the morning after, you'd remember that everyone was fucking at least one other pussy or ass and you just happened to be ramming Asskawa of all people. So maybe _you_ should give your dick a vacation to the doctors, Kuroo."

Finally, the dark-haired boy looked up. "Oh, snap."

Wow. How were they so open about this, and so loud? Kenma was blushing _for_ them. Although the scattered students to his right didn't seem to care, either that or they were feigning ignorance.

Kuroo glared at the dark-haired boy. "Shut up, Akaashi." He then directed his glare at his silver-haired friend. "And my dick is royalty, don't talk shit about it."

Bokuto snorted. "Royalty? Please, then mine is Jesus."

What did that even mean? Kenma then realised was dangerously close to imagining the inappropriate, so he scrapped that thought.

"No. You don't understand." Kuroo was smirking, and for a moment Kenma was caught with how attractive this boy was. It was a very conventional attractive when you regarded his look. Deep-set eyes, wild dark hair, your typical bad boy head to toe. Kenma wouldn't be surprised if there was a tattoo or three under that V-neck of his. He also wouldn't be surprised if he ate pussy for dinner.

"Let me be the judge of that."

While he was busy admiring for afar, his friend Bokuto reached out his hand and Kenma's brain did a countdown before realising what he was about to grab.

All of a sudden the glass doors swung open and a stampede of impatient students came rushing out. The three boys scrambled to pick up their books and bags, hurriedly getting out of the way.

Once the theatre had emptied, the boys were the first to go inside and Kenma followed without thinking. Apparently, not a single other student hanging around the corridor was waiting for modern history, which left a painfully awkward group of Kenma and the three attractive boys in the theatre alone. He'd say it was a dream come true but it was more like a test of courage.

They sat near the middle, and Kenma made a quick dash to the back, not so much as looking their way. If they noticed him they didn't mention it.

The talking started again and he was within earshot, but it wasn't like he was trying to eavesdrop. He wasn't being nosy. He wasn't being curious. Okay, maybe a little bit curious but he swore that he wasn't intentionally listening, they were just so _loud so_ he didn't have much of a choice.

Kuroo got straight to the point. "Were you just about to grab my dick in public?"

Bokuto clicked his tongue like it was a stupid question. "No, dude, it's not grabbing dick, it's measuring size. You know, when girls feel each other's boobs...unless you were worried about getting hard?"

"Okay, no offense, but when you open your mouth I go limper than a sock."

"Fuck you man whatever. Just show me this royal dick of yours before someone comes in."

Um. Kenma wasn't sure what to make of this. Like he was glad they weren't paying him any attention and all, but to be treated like he wasn't even in the room kind of hurt. Nevertheless he was _not_ going to say anything.

He then heard the sound of unzipping.

_What?_ Were they really doing this right now? He felt his heart beat quicken.

Bokuto draped an arm across Kuroo's broad shoulders and leaned in close enough to close any gaps between them. Kenma couldn't see from where he was sitting and well, he was glad for that, but he could hardly believe they were letting dicks hang loose in a lecture slated to start in two minutes.

"Well, fuck." He heard him say.

"Yeah, that's right." And Kenma could hear the ego rise in Kuroo's voice.

"Hey Akaashi, take a look."

"No. What the hell guys. Kuroo put your dick away."

Outside the lecture and through the translucent glass, dark figures were starting to gather. The door eventually opened, and the first new faces arrived to join them. Kenma heard the quick zipping of Kuroo's pants, and like none of this ever happened, modern history had started.

***

Break time wasn't so bad. The cafeteria was very simple, with a colour coordination of whites and neutrals. Most of the food served was similar to that of a food court, but as usual Kenma had his lunch packed and ready thanks to mother. Kenma had imagined himself sitting alone at a table surrounded by cliques, getting laughed at, maybe stared at, but university was different in that nobody gave a damn. People were sitting alone on every third table, most of the time too preoccupied with their food or phone.

He was still paranoid of course. He still felt the staring eyes that he wasn't even sure were there. But he was used to it, enough that he could function normally. Hinata had woken up halfway through his break as well.

_So how was class?? 11:40am_

_Okay. Intro to the course. 11:41am_

_Meet anyone new??? 11:41am_

_No lol. 11:41am_

_Oh. Well I heard it's hard to make friends in lectures anyway. 11:42am_

_I don't mind. How is your roommate? 11:42am_

_...I'll skype you about it tonight. 11:43am_

Hinata had to leave for errands after that.

Math class followed. Something he'd been looking forward to. He was good at math and math was good to him. Lecture was exactly how he liked it, two hours of sitting alone with no interaction unless you volunteered and there was no way Kenma was going to volunteer. _Ever_. Thus it worked out. He took notes, played with his phone during the 10 minute interval, resumed note-taking and then scrammed out the door once he was dismissed.

And like that, the day was over.

It was that uneventful. Actually, the most eventful part of the day ended up being modern history. He didn't talk to a single new person and he wasn't sure if he should be worried or not, since it was only his first day.

Trying not to think too much of it, Kenma boarded the bus and took a seat near the front. He took out his earphones and scrolled through his playlist of game soundtracks. Outside his window, a drizzle started to fall, which became a downpour in a matter of seconds.

_Rain in spring? That's strange._

Eventually he decided on something from Persona 3.

***

Kuroo was running as fast as his legs could take him. Sure he hadn't gone to the gym for a month, and it had been a while since he touched a volleyball, but a stitch in his side was the last thing he expected to slow him down. To make matters worse it had started to rain _just_ as he was reaching. God _damm_ he shouldn't have waited around with the guys after class, plus he knew his bus only came every half hour.

As he slid to a halt at the curb where his bus was waiting, holding his bang above his head, the doors shut in his face before he could even put a foot on the first step.

"Wait—"

The bus drove off, leaving Kuroo to soak in the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uni starts tomorrow. I wish I was a first year again.


	3. Chapter 3

He loved his apartment, really. No one to nag you about cleaning the house, taking the trash out, or ask you to look after your sister for an entire weekend. Hinata was having the time on his life lazing on his bed with his ipad in his hands, watching some hilarious game show about scare pranks. And then the next thing he knew his door swung open, and an angry-looking tall guy was yelling, "Don't leave your disgusting dishes in the sink for me to wash!"

His ipad almost fell onto his face. "Don't just barge in!"

"Clean your mess up!"

"Just leave it there I'll clean it later!"

"NOW."

"ARRRRGHHHHhhh..."

Hinata begrudgingly got off his bed.

He loved his apartment, really; but his roommate - Tobio Kageyama - was a shit. He hadn't even been living here for more than a month.

It wasn't always bad. When he first moved in they were on okay terms, they hardly talked but there was nothing to complain about except the occasional passive aggressive jab from the dark-haired boy for Hinata to clean up after his mess and that habitual scowl on his face. But in his second week of university, Hinata discovered the holy activity known as _partying_. One friday night, he stumbled home a little tipsy and feeling a little dirty, and was greeted by a fuming Kageyama who proceeded to yell at him for _opening the door too loud_ and _being an eyesore_.

That was all it took for their acquaintanceship to turn sour and since then Hinata never understood what he did wrong to deserve such jackass treatment from his roommate, but he sure as hell would return the favour.

Kageyama was tying his shoelaces in the doorway, he was covered head to toe in Adidas gear and Hinata thought he might as well be modelling for Adidas; he had the body and height (to Hinata's dismay), not that he would ever tell him though. Judging by the towel and sports bag slung across his shoulder he was heading for the gym. Kageyama said nothing when he closed the door behind him.

"Jerk," Hinata muttered. His ipad started ringing and he peered over his shoulder to see who it was. Kenma was calling him but his hands were wet, so he improvised with his elbow and swiped it across the screen, almost knocking it to the ground in the process. Kenma's face appeared; he was wearing his PJs and had his fancy fluoro-headphones on. The boy had spent a fortune on those.

"Hello?" he called, squinting into the camera.

"Hey, hello, I'm here. Sorry I'm washing dishes so you'll have to bear with looking at the ceiling for a bit." Hinata was now scrubbing his plate as fast as he could.

"Oh, okay. Should I call later?"

"No no I'll be done in a second it's literally just two plates and a mug. My roommate was giving me grief about it, I need to rant to you about him."

"Go ahead," Kenma was busy adjusting his volume. "He's not home?"

"No I think he went to the gym. Fuck him. Anyway, so it's been a month since I moved in and I really like school and stuff, my new friends are great and it feels good to have all this freedom," Hinata frowned to himself, "but I just don't understand what the hell did I do to make him hate me so much, you know?"

"Did you ask?"

He started rinsing and placing the plates on the rack. "Does ' _what the hell is your problem'_ count?"

"Not really, no."

"I shouldn't have to ask though, if I've done something wrong, all he has to do is tell me the truth it's not that hard."

Kenma said nothing, and then Hinata remembered that Kenma was the last person that would tell _anybody_ the truth if they were bothering him. Hinata wiped his hands on a towel before picking up his ipad and facing the camera his face.

“Well I mean…at least you wouldn’t start being an asshole to me.”

“Mm.”

He was sweating. "Sorry, forget it. How's school?" He went into the lounge and dived onto the couch, switching the TV on.

"The same, I guess."

The talk show he was watching earlier had ended and now it was just a bunch of cooking show repeats. "Have you made any new friends?"

The blonde averted his gaze and Hinata immediately regretted asking. It was a topic he tried to avoid whenever they spoke but Hinata just thought that maybe, by now, somebody might have made the same effort as he did when he first met Kenma.

"I talked to one person the other day..." he finally said, a slight blush on his cheeks.

"For real? That's great!"

"I'm not...hoping for anything though."

"Don't be such a negative nancy, just keep talking and the next thing you know you've got a new friend."

Kenma gave a long sigh into his mic. "If it was that easy."

"Well it kind of is, I mean, for most people. Oh wait I didn't mean it like that, I just meant—"

"It's fine, I get it. I know how I am."

Hinata was being so tactless today, was it because they’d been apart for too long? "Sorry."

"Shouyou, sometimes I wish I were you."

Hinata's face scrunched into something like disgust. "Why would you want to be me, that's stupid. My mum wants me to be more like you, always nagging about how I need to be more _serious like Kenma-kun_."

"Wanna swap lives?"

"Okay."

They spent the next two hours talking about Hinata's partying shenanigans and Kenma's new games.

 

***

It had been a month. It had been a month and he'd only talked to one person out of all his classes. His name was Lev Haiba and he'd transferred into his history class last week. Lev was a little overbearing, but an okay person overall. He was about the only person he'd met so far that asked for his facebook and proceeded to actually message him on facebook, even though Kenma could only give him a few dry replies.

Apart from meeting Lev, history lectures and classes had quickly become his favourite, even more so than math, and it wasn't because he was enjoying the gritty details of Imperial Japan given by his severely monotonous lecturer, it was because he had a nice spot at the back of the lecture with a clear view of broad shoulders and dark hair.

Yes. _Yes_ he was doing this. Kenma had taken up the painful hobby of secretly staring at a jock. It wasn't a crush – especially not on someone so out of his league and incompatible with him (he would have better chances with a _girl_ even). Kuroo was just very...fascinating to watch. Of course he never mentioned this to Hinata, not that Hinata would laugh at him or anything but it was not exactly something socially acceptable, or was it? He didn’t know.

Whenever Kuroo was sitting with his friends (Bokuto in particular) he spent half the lecture giggling on his phone and the other half doodling variations of a penis and showing it to Akaashi only to get an eye-roll in response. But then on the days he was late and sitting three or four rows away from anybody he knew it was like watching a completely different person. Kuroo would take his pen and paper out and scribble down notes like finals were tomorrow and then proceed to raise his hand every fifteen minutes to either answer or ask a question and when he did answer a question it was pretty much straight out of a textbook word for word. It was like watching a not-so-secret double life.

And then there was that one time in the library Kenma just happened to be sitting a table away from Kuroo and a bunch of people he didn't recognize. One minute they were squawking animals in heat but the _moment_ Kuroo was left to his lonesome, out came the books, a glossy ASUS, and the fast tapping on a word document that Kenma recognised as their history essay that wasn't due for _weeks_.

Today was one of those days. Kuroo was late for class and Bokuto and Akaashi were sitting too deep within the throng of students. His lecturer was going on a tangent about Oda Nobunaga and he was just not feeling the content today.

About fifteen minutes later one of the doors behind him cracked open. The seats that were available were awkwardly placed between students so Kenma, figuring as much as he'd like to avoid it he wasn't callous enough to let someone go through the awkward _side-stepping-crotch-in-your-face-just-to-get-to-my-seat_ experience, mentally sighed and moved his things and shuffled one spot down. The person that had just walked in whispered a thank you as he sat beside him. Kenma could the feel his radiating warmth of having run a mile around the campus. His eyes wandered to the guy he’d played hero for.

Kuroo was fanning himself with his notebook.

"Nobunaga's conquest spread to the North..." his lecturer droned.

A shelf collapsing onto him – that was what it felt like. How was this even possible? Probably because he’d never come in from the back doors before and for some reason it had never occurred to Kenma that the dark-haired boy could one day sit next to him let alone talk to him.

Kuroo put his book down on the table and started digging through his bag. Kenma was trying very hard to tune out the fact that the boy he’d been …observing (stalking wasn’t quite the right word, well at least he hoped so) – was right beside him, inches away, but the harder he tried the more conscious he became until his body was physically as stiff as his mind. It was so irrational he had no reason to be nervous. Was it the fear that Kuroo would somehow find out he had been secretly watching him? Or was it the guilt of knowing that he knew more about Kuroo than Kuroo would ever know about him and that that was kind of creepy (really creepy when he thought about it)? Worse was that he didn’t even know who Kenma was. Okay, he had to stop thinking about this or else he was going to get the jitters.

_Nobunaga's conquest. Nobunaga uniting Japan. Nobunaga, Nobunaga...who was Nobunaga again?_

Suddenly, Kuroo leaned in towards him and Kenma's heart tackled against his ribcage.

"Hey, sorry, could I borrow a pen?" he asked, completely oblivious to the timid boy who was now most _definitely_ jittery.

Kenma just stared at him for a painfully long three seconds before silently reaching for his pencil case with shaky hands and taking out a pen (one of his good ones too). He flexed every muscle in his hand to stop himself from shaking while offering it to the dark-haired boy and hoped to god it was working because he was having a really hard time concentrating on anything but his nerves right now.

Kuroo promptly took it, and then he smirked. Kenma switched into panic mode – had he done something weird? Was there something on his face? Did he notice the shaking?

"Thanks," Kuroo said.

Kenma couldn't speak, so he nodded instead. Kuroo definitely thought he was weird or something. He quickly fell back into his shell and stared straight ahead at the projector to avoid eye contact while his heart continued to relentlessly throw itself against his chest. He eventually noticed his hands were all clammy now…gross. _Oh no_. What if the pen was covered in sweat when he lent it? He should have wiped it before giving it to the other boy.

Anxiety stacked on top of anxiety. This class could not go any slower.

They didn't speak anymore, but for the next forty-five minutes he remained so painfully aware of every movement and every sound that he made and that Kuroo made; even his ears were so filled with anxious noise his lecturer might as well have been mumbling. What frustrated him even more was only _he_ was being so anxious. Kuroo didn’t so much look his way.

When class finally ended the feeling was akin to beating the final boss in Dark Souls and that was saying something. Kenma had lost years of his life playing that game.

And then Kuroo turned to him, holding out the uniball pen that Kenma could probably never use the same after today. "Thanks again."

Kenma nodded and quickly took the thing and threw it in his bag like it was contaminated. The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow and Kenma went into panic mode again. He shouldn't have done that. That was so unnatural. That was so unnecessary. He was stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Uhh..." Kuroo started. "I didn't bite on it?"

Nice going Kenma now he thinks you're falsely accusing him, but he didn’t mean for it to come across that way he… _please just stand up and let me leave._

At this point it was obvious how fidgety he looked, so Kuroo gathered his belongings and stood up, making way for Kenma to power walk past him. The blond didn't look at him – _couldn’t_ look at him. Once he was out the door it was like escaping a gas chamber, fresh air never felt so good. There was a flood of critical thoughts coming his way but he would deal with that later. For now, he made a mental note to sit somewhere else and to avoid the boy named Kuroo like the plague.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long absence orz let's just say life happened. I'm still inspired to write this though.


End file.
